


Pierrot The Clown

by Shadowolf19



Category: Avengers Academy (Video Game), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Child Abuse, First Meetings, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, One Shot, Physical Abuse, Stony Bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-06-04 17:45:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15152381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowolf19/pseuds/Shadowolf19
Summary: Tony sighed deeply and checked his reflection in the mirror one last time. His scruffy dark hair was all over the place, just another sign of a night that he was eager to store away in one of the deepest drawers of his memory.





	Pierrot The Clown

**Author's Note:**

> First fic for the Stony Bingo 2018 (prompt "abuse"). It's set in an Alternate Universe and both characters are teenagers - Steve is a bit older than Tony but just of one or two years. Their characterization is mainly based on the MCU, but because it takes place in a school the Avengers Academy video game played a role too.

It wasn’t the first time, nor it would be the last, he knew it wouldn’t. There’s not much that you can know for certain when you’re fourteen, but he was a smart kid and he didn’t get this far by living in a fantasy world. Quite the contrary, although all of that knowledge had been locked away in a file so secret that only three people knew about it. He had seen its cover once, only for a split second, but he had never forgotten it. Its plain simplicity contrasted vividly with all the bleak things hidden within its pages. But on its front one there was only a single word, stamped in red ink: _Confidential._ He got pulled away by one of his nannies the moment after. Later that day, it was decided that he would leave for his first year of boarding school by evening, anticipating his departure by ten days or so.

Tony sighed deeply and checked his reflection in the mirror one last time. His scruffy dark hair was all over the place, just another sign of a night that he was eager to store away in one of the deepest drawers of his memory. He tried to smooth it onward as best as he could, then once again he stared at the big purple bruise that covered a big part of his face, under his left eye all the way across his nose. A part of him wanted to go to classes like that, to see if any of his teachers would actually have the guts to ask that question, or even just to acknowledge that, you know, it was _there_. But immediately the word “Confidential” popped up in his mind, so he shook that thought away with a sad grin. He wasn’t gonna cause problems to other people too, his mum was already one innocent victim too many.  “ _I put something in your bag, sweetie”_ she had whispered last night in his ear, just before he got hushed in the limo, but it was only when he was back in his room in the dormitory, hours later, that he had had the guts to see what it was: a very posh looking but small pot of something called BB cream. He had stared at it for a long time, not exactly knowing what it was but certainly guessing it, until a lingering sadness linked with the realization of what that also meant started to grab him at the pit of his stomach, and before he knew it tears were wetting his cheeks, his sobs muffled only by the pillow which he held against his face.

He fished the cream out from his pocket now, opened it and carefully started to apply it, trying to stop as little as possible in order to get over and done with it. A minute later, his face looked definitely better, almost _normal_. Probably not enough at a close inspection, but none of his friends were around yet – the official start of the semester was in two weeks’ time – and he knew the few teachers already on campus would not dare bringing the subject up. « You’re okay. » he said out loud, to reassure himself one last time before heading out. But as his fingers closed around the knob, he could feel his heart beat faster.

∞

The day went by unexpectedly quickly, and before he knew it he was sitting in the empty cafeteria on his own, his tray containing only an apple and a carton of milk in front of him, a small closed circuit in his right hand, something similar to a screwdriver in his left. He had been trying to make it work for the past hour without any result, so when the bell had signalled the start of lunch hour he had decided to take it with him to pass the time. He wasn’t big on reading, or drawing, or any other activity students did to pass their free time. Usually he’d sit around with his friends, brainstorming ideas or testing their next big project but alas, none of them were there and the school had an extremely rigid “no smartphones allowed within school grounds” policy, so his options were very limited.

« Hey there. Mind if I join you? » said a voice in front of him all of a sudden, and Tony would have sworn his heart had skipped a couple of beats out of fear. _What the hell?,_ he thought to himself, and opted to keep his gaze down as a further deterrent.

« There’s plenty of seats to go around » he replied, nodding with his head to the deserted hall behind him.

« I _know_ , I’m not _blind_. But do you mind? I’m new. »

 _And I’m too old for this shit_ , thought Tony, but he didn’t say it out loud. Swearing wasn’t acceptable either.

« So? Everyone is new at one point or the other. »

He waited for a reply – his one liners were popular in the school, which had won him a mostly unrequited social fame – but that never came. Instead, the intrusive stranger pulled a chair out and sat right in front of him. Tony sighed loudly, to make sure that the other guy registered his annoyance, and decided that the best course of action was probably gonna be to ignore him. His gaze still fixed on his circuit, he stretched out his hand to grab the apple and started chewing it, trying to get his focus back to his goal.

« I’m Steve. Steve Rogers. » said the stranger after a couple of minutes of silence, and a hand entered Tony’s field of vision. He gave it the briefest look, and knew at once who this guy probably was: the new quarterback. _Amazing_. He hated sports with a vengeance.

« Good for you. » he snickered, ignoring the stretched hand in front of him. Then, after a second thought: « Look, I don’t wanna sound rude, or unwelcoming, or whatever, but I’m really not in the mood for chitchat, okay? I’m trying to get this thing to work, and you’re not helping. »

« It’s okay, I understand. I won’t bother you. I’m just gonna eat my lunch here if it’s okay with you though. I’d rather not make the staff have to clean the whole cafeteria if I can help it. »

Tony frowned as hearing this statement and for the first time he actually raised his gaze: he needed to see just what sort of nuthead was gonna be the school’s big shot in the next academic year. Not that he didn’t have an idea already: quarterbacks tended to look all quite similar in his opinion. Lots of muscles, lots of inches, lots of self-entitlement sparkling from their eyes. As he looked at the stranger for just a second, he realised he had been right on two counts out of three: probably tall alright, definitely muscly, but his eyes… his eyes were _off_ , so to speak. He couldn’t decipher them, not immediately as he was usually able to. And that’s right when he suddenly remembered his own face, and his bruises, so he hurriedly looked away. He couldn’t risk it.

« Whatever. » he mumbled, taking another big chunk off his apple. « Suit yourself. »

« Thanks. » the stranger replied, and Tony was relieved to notice his tone hadn’t changed after he had let his guard off. He hadn’t _noticed_. Thank god.

Rogers put his tray on the table and sat down in front of Tony, who in the meantime had gone back to his tinkering. Much to his surprise, the other kid kept his promise of silence, so after a short while Tony felt less tense and found himself getting lost into his own work. And that’s why, when the bell announcing the end of lunch hour rang, he lifted up his head without much thinking. His eyes intercepted a piece of paper which definitely hadn’t been there last time he had looked, and although he was looking at it upside down he could swear…

« Is that _me_?! » he exclaimed out loud, spelling every word with disbelief.

Rogers, who himself had been startled by the bell, blinked in confusion and looked back at Tony, hunching his shoulders without understanding what the urgency was. His voice was calm when he spoke though.

« … Yes? »

« What is your problem, dude? »

« What’d you even mean? I like drawing, so what? »

« But why did you draw _me_? »

Rogers left out an amused giggle, making a wide gesture with his arm in the direction of the room surrounding them.

« Look around, it’s just the two of us here, and I don’t really like sketching urban settings, they’re so _boring_. So I did you. » He paused before adding, his tone slightly apologetic now: « I didn’t think it would be a big deal. »

Tony lowered his stare on the paper again, and had to admit it was a good one. Not that he knew much about art anyway. He sighed, and he mentally shook his head to himself: maybe he was indeed overreacting.

« Yeah, you’re right, it’s not. » he agreed, and without further ado he stood up and picked up his rucksack from the chair next to him, getting ready to go. Rogers collected all of his things, put them back in his own bag and did the same. Tony gave him a side look: _oh my god, is he gonna follow me now too?_ Before having to find out the hard way, he decided to get ahead: « Uhm, it’s been nice meeting you, I guess. I really need to get going now though, so… »

Rogers nodded and stayed there for a moment, then he stretched the drawing towards Tony: « Here, this is yours. »

Tony couldn’t believe his own ears.

« What? What should I do with it? »

« I don’t know, that’s up to you. But I want you to have it. I’m sorry if I caused you any trouble, it really wasn’t my intention, I swear. I just don’t know anyone here, and this whole system is new to me too, I’m not used to it and it feels… weird. I just felt alone, I guess. »

Tony, who knew all too well what he meant, couldn’t help but feel a bit sympathetic towards the new guy – and he so wished he didn’t. He bit his lip, hesitated for a couple of seconds more, then he grabbed the paper and looked at the drawing: he really liked it, and he could see the resemblance too.

« We’re cool. » he muttered, putting it away into his rucksack. « Thanks for this. I’ll see you around, okay? »

« At dinner tonight? »

« I guess so. » he answered, mostly to close off the conversation. And without waiting any longer, he took off, leaving Rogers behind. But that didn’t stop the stranger from calling after him.

« Hey, what’s your name? »

Tony stopped and closed his eyes as to get rid of a bad thought. His options were limited, it didn’t take a genius to realise it. He considered lying to him, but really, what was the point? If he knew something about this guy already, it was that he didn’t seem to know when to give up. So there was really only one thing left to do.

« Tony. My name is Tony. » he mumbled, still looking ahead of him. Then he took off as soon as possible.

∞

At around 6:20, just as he was getting ready to head to dinner, he got a call from home; it was brief, as they always were – the school didn’t allow them to go over two minutes, as it was believed to distract the students – and it was only his mum at the phone, as it always was. They exchanged their usual, circumstantial words – how are you, does it feel good to be back, are your any of your friends there already, how was your day – and they were about to say goodbye when an imposing voice erupted from her background, making Tony’s heart momentarily stop pumping. _“I can’t believe you, Maria, you’re already calling_ him _! How many times do I have to tell you he’s never gonna grow up if you keep doing it?”_ it said, and Tony suddenly felt his face hurting all over again.

« I love you, mum » he whispered, and without waiting for an answer he hung up the receiver.

He dragged his feet back to his room and let himself collapse on the bed, struggling so much to keep it together. He felt numb and aching all at the same time. He could swear his face was red, but didn’t have the guts to actually confront himself in the mirror to check. After what seemed like an incredibly long time, he managed to get up and headed towards the shower. He was feeling dirty, and although he was fully aware that it wasn’t a kind of filthiness that could be washed away with water, he knew it would help, somehow.

∞

It was a long shower, and it helped getting his thoughts away from his mind, some of them at least, but that was good enough for him. He had just come out of the box and wrapped a towel around his waist when a knock on the room door echoed in the bathroom. Tony frowned, puzzled, and decided to ignore it: surely someone had got the number wrong, it happened all the time. He grabbed a comb and started trying to make some sense out of his hair, but a second knock interrupted him. He sighed, impatient, got out of the bathroom and went to the door.

« Who is it? »

« Hey, it's Steve. Steve Rogers. »

 _“Are you fucking kidding me?!”_ Tony thought, leaning his forehead against the frame.

« What’d you want? I’m busy. »

« I didn’t see you at dinner so I thought to bring you something to eat. »

Tony blinked, his disbelief growing bigger by the second. For the life of him, he couldn’t figure this guy out. Footballers – or any sport people for that matter – weren’t the type of guys who wanted to be seen with nerds like him, let alone be friends. And yes, although it was true that there were possibly less than twenty people on campus right now, surely the future quarterback wouldn’t have any problems picking up his new crew. So what was his after?

« Tony? » the voice called him, and in that moment he could swear he felt a shiver down his spine. He tried to ignore it, and decided to open the door to stick the good half of his face out, even if just of a few inches.

« Uh, you didn’t have to do that, but thanks. »

Rogers nodded and passed a chicken sandwich wrapped in a paper towel to Tony. It was still warm, and its smell made his stomach grumble with hunger. He just realised he hadn’t had anything to eat for almost twenty-four hours.

« Sure, no problem. Why didn’t you go to dinner? »

« I wasn’t hungry. » he lied, hoping to get away with it. As if to tell him off, a louder noise erupted from his belly. Tony looked away.

« Well, goodnight. » said Rogers after a couple of awkward seconds, and turned on his heels as to walk away. Tony looked at his back and felt like a complete idiot.

« Steve, wait. » he called out, and the other boy went back on his steps, a small pacific smile on his lips.

« What? »

« You should know, uh… You’re not really allowed to take food away from the canteen, so… »

« Thanks for the heads-up. Won’t do it again. »

Tony nodded, more to himself than to Rogers, and stayed there trying to find a way to end the conversation. In that moment a loud noise came from the bathroom, startling both of them, and Tony stretched his neck to see what had caused it. A rapid survey of the small room revealed one of the hooks had come undone.

« Well, at least I’ll have something to do tomorrow… » he muttered to himself before realising all of a sudden that Rogers was still at the entrance. He gave him a brief glance and sighed: « Sorry, I was talking to myself. Em, goodnight. »

He went to close the door but found a strong resistance opposing his. It took him a couple of moments to figure out it was Roger’s hand. _Muscles, right_. He looked up at him to figure out what the reason for that was and it was with horror that he realised he had let his guard down for a short while. Because the other student’s face had hardened in an instant, and now he was staring at him with an insistence that caused Tony all kinds of discomfort.

« Tony, what’s that on your face? »

« There’s nothing on my face. » he replied, too quickly to be true. And then, desperately: « Goodnight, Steve. »

« Tony, wait… »

But he wasn’t having it, not anymore. He leaned his whole body against the door and started pushing so hard and with such urgency that Rogers had to let his hand fall off out of respect. Exhausted both from the physical and the psychological stress, Tony collapsed against the door and on the floor, leaning his head against the wood and swallowing his pain down his throat. He held his breath to catch any sound that could come from the opposite side, but no word came, and he was relieved about that. He looked at his own reflection in the mirror, feeling a mix of repulsion and disgust starting to overcome him. He rushed to the toilet and threw up.

∞

When he came back out, fifteen minutes later, he found a little piece of paper slid under the door, so he picked it up. It read:

 _“I’m not just muscles, Tony._  
If you ever need to talk, I’m here for you.  
Steve.”


End file.
